My Blues Ain't Yours

1 min

is a published poet and teaching artist. She is the author of two books of poetry, “Poetry Pulls Pain,” and Healing Her Hurts,” a collection of short stories and poetry. As well as “REGGIE  [+]

Image of Summer 2020

My blues ain’t yours!
my blues be,
maybe more
but no less then
400 years of,
broken black bodies
buried, beneath and beyond,
these, beached shores, of America.

My blues be,
auction blocks
the lynch-men’s knot,
and masters cock,
crammed, inside of my,
13 year old, virgin vessel,
breeding, blue eyed, black skinned babies,
to be, bargained for, brought and sold,
but NEVER,
to belong to me.

My blues ain’t yours!
my blues be me,
proclamated, emancipated,
set free,
only to be enslaved again,
by segregation
Sanctioned but never receiving
40 acers and a mule,
Who had more rights than me
to work a piece of land,
within this land,
that won’t ever, belong to me.

My blues be,
no civil rights,
klan filled nights,
with picnic’s, parties and parades,
held in honor of,
three black boys hanging hung.
All because some sheriff caught ‘em,
making a pass,
or simply,
passing by, without pausing,
bow their heads,
or lower their eyes,
in the presence of,
Miss Ann.

My blues ain’t yours!
my blues be,
mass migration, thousands families determination,
to make a better life.
Moving up north way above the Mason Dixon line,
only to discover,
that Jim Crow lived there too,
he just
changed his name,

My blues be,
the sixties,
sitting and dying,
marching and dying,
standing up for,
and in the name of,
simply standing still,
and STILL,

My blues ain’t yours!

I’ve got those,
“the last to get hired, first to be fired,” blues.

“hell no, you can’t live here nigger,” blues

my blues be,
the Projects,
torn down, rebuilt, and given a new name,
low income housing blues.

My blues be,
Welfare, refined, reformed, and re-designed
to make my life a living hell, blues.

My blues be,
over crowded
under staffed schools,
with teachers teaching
everybody’s history,
but mine.

My blues be,
highway profiling,
with crooked cops and cranky judges,
packing, already over populated prisons.

My blues ain’t yours!
my blues be...........BLACK.


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Image of Mary Tabor
Mary Tabor · ago
A chronicle that's much needed. Well-done.
Image of Pat McLean-Smith
Pat McLean-Smith · ago
Thank you so much and congratulations on your win.
Image of Manuela Guerra
Manuela Guerra · ago
An amazing piece......I particularly enjoyed these lines,
"My blues ain’t yours!
my blues be,
mass migration, thousands families determination,
to make a better life"...... You have my vote!
Check out my piece, "The Knight In Gold Armor" is also in the final round. Thank you

Image of Felix Culpa
Felix Culpa · ago
I really like your poem, I got the blues with you. I subscribe and I give you my five votes !
Image of Oni Lasana
Oni Lasana · ago
Go on wit yo bad self!
Image of M Austin
M Austin · ago
Such a talented artist in so many ways !!
Image of Markesha Rosser
Markesha Rosser · ago
Very empowering..keep creating❤
Image of Donna Reviere Dorman
Donna Reviere Dorman · ago
A master of creativity, the mixture of words this lady uses is super natural but I expect nothing less from her.
Image of B Michelle Horton
B Michelle Horton · ago
Love this piece and all your creative words and work.
Image of RuNett Ebo Gray
RuNett Ebo Gray · ago
Your work is always relatable. It inspires me and motivates me to continue on my path. Keep writing. I enjoy reading .
Image of Tony Martello
Tony Martello · ago
Awesome! My full support- 5 votes. I have 2 stories that made the finals as well: "Maize of Color" and "Green Springs" Vote for them when you get a chance for your continued support! Tony